FOUR

THE LIFE AND FABULOUS TIMES OF ME: SALLY, SOVEREIGN, BOSS BABE, AND BEARER OF THE CHALICE OF PARISI

20 June

“T errin, darling,” I said to the man himself as he sat glued to his chair, a mountain of papers in six stacks of varying heights and levels of tidiness splayed out in front of him.

“Hmm?” he asked, not bothering to look up from his laptop. “Is there something you need, Sally?”

The nearest stack of papers quivered, just as if a sneeze would send them into an explosion of papery chaos.

I eyed the stack.

“No,” he said, an obvious warning in his voice.

I tsk ed and propped myself up on the unoccupied corner of his desk. “You know I love you to the ends of the earth and back, but, sugar, you can be such a wet blanket. Also, you understand me far too well for my comfort. But that matters not. Do you know a demon named”—I consulted my phone—“Effrijim? Apparently, it used to be with Amaymon, but was forcibly removed from Abaddon for some hullabaloo over a leviathan with romance on his mind.”

“Effrijim?” He looked up at the name, his mild brown eyes, brown hair, and general appearance of mildness making him look innocuous, naive, and possessed of a bovine level of intelligence, none of which was true. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact, and once again I prided myself on picking the perfect partner with whom to run the Court.

“That’s the name,” I said, glancing at the text message again.

“There was a sprite named Effrijim who I seem to recall causing issues with our predecessor,” he said after a moment’s obvious dig through his (prodigious) memory. “I didn’t meet him myself, but the name is somewhat familiar. I believe there are some records concerning him that I can look up, if you like.”

“That little ... he was a sprite?” I considered pursing my lips, but as a dedicated alumnus of the Carrie Fay Academy of Really Nice Hair and Perky Bosoms, I confined myself to a raised eyebrow, instead. “He didn’t say anything about that. He’s a demon now.”

“ It’s a demon,” Terrin corrected, his attention back to the paperwork he loved so dearly. It was one of the reasons why we as Sovereign had ruled so successfully for the last seven hundred years. “Demons use the ‘it’ pronoun.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to fly these days,” I answered, still thinking about the demon. While I was naturally shocked and horrified that anyone would leave the Court, the idea of rubbing shoulders with all those demons and demon lords had a strange appeal to it.

Terrin paused for a moment. “I didn’t think of that, but you’re right. What with all the social justice and such, I’m a bit surprised the demons haven’t demanded new pronouns. Or are they happy with gender-neutral, do you think?”

“Sugar, much though I love keeping my fingers on the pulse of the Court, that power sadly does not extend to Abaddon.” Of their own accord, my lips pursed for a scant moment. “But that doesn’t have to remain the case.”

“What does Effrijim want?” Terrin asked, tapping away on the keyboard.

“If there was a way I could slip in ... a very strong glamour would be needed to hide my Court ties, of course ... but that wouldn’t be difficult to arrange. No, the problem is the surplus of demon lords. ... Hmm? The demon Effrijim wants revenge.”

“Demons,” Terrin muttered in a dismissive tone.

“No, no, you have it wrong. He doesn’t want revenge against a mortal, or even an immortal; he wants revenge against Ariton.”

That had Terrin looking up, a question in his eyes.

“I don’t know, exactly,” I answered the question, holding up my phone. “He just asked if I could help him exact revenge against Ariton.”

“Please tell me you’re not considering it,” Terrin said, a somewhat fatalistic expression settling on his face.

“Of course I’m considering it. We’re the Sovereign. It is our sworn duty to aid, assist, and abet denizens of the Otherworld, and as Effrijim has been removed from Abaddon, he falls under that umbrella.”

“And the fact that you’ve been itching for a reason to dip your toes into Abaddon waters has nothing to do with your sudden willingness to help a stranger, does it?” Terrin asked, once again piercing straight through to the heart of my soul.

I gave him my best Carrie Fay smile.

The one with all the teeth.

“Sugar, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: We could bring Abaddon to the modern age and peak efficiency if they’d just name me as premiere prince. I have a comprehensive, forty-five-day plan to take that place from downright medieval to prosperous and thriving.”

“The last thing that I want to see is a thriving, efficient Abaddon,” Terrin said in the same warning tone he’d used earlier. “The very thought of it scares the peawadding out of me.”

“What, exactly, is a peawadding?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Is it something naughty? Risqué? Do I want one?”

He sighed. “What are you going to do about the demon?”

“Help him, of course.” I wiggled my shoulders. “He used to be a sprite, after all.”

Terrin murmured something about knowing better than to try to stop me when I had my heart set on an action. I just blew him a kiss and trotted off to attend to a little pressing business.

I had a feeling I was going to enjoy what was coming.

23 June

“You do know that’s full of fat and sugars and preservatives that are not healthy.” I nodded to the ice cream cone I held at arm’s length, careful to keep out of the splash zone.

“Yeah, but a demon’s gotta eat, and since that ice cream dude is the only one open in the park, I’ll take my chances with a little delicious, silky smooth, nearly orgasmic berries and cream. Can you tip it a little away from me so I can get a good lick ... perfect.”

“What is it—other than unhealthy carbohydrates—you want from me?” I asked, more than a little amused by the avidity with which the demon ate the ice cream. He appeared in the form of a Great Dane dog, evidently a canine being his preferred form.

He delicately plucked the remaining cone from my fingers, crunched loudly for a minute, then sat down and licked his lips a few times to catch any stray crumbs or ice cream. “I want Ariton to go away. Destroyed would be preferable, but I’d settle for banished to the Akasha where he can’t ever get out to squash innocent demons. You can do that, right? Banish demon lords?”

I drew out an antiseptic wipe and dabbed at my fingers. Carrie Fay had many things to say about the state of one’s manicure, and none of them involved either melted ice cream or dog slobber. “Given the correct tools, yes.”

“Tools?” Effrijim sucked a tooth. “What sort of tools? Like power tools? You going to table saw Ariton’s head off? I want to watch if you do.”

“Gruesome,” I said, smiling. “I approve of this attitude. The tools I’m thinking of are not available ... yet. But I can see where they might be, given the right set of circumstances.”

“So you’ll do it?” Effrijim asked, his ears pricking up.

“I shouldn’t,” I said hesitantly, wondering how I was going to spin the plan that was slowly coming to mind.

“Yeah, but when have you let that stop you?”

I ceased musing and cocked an eyebrow.

The demon gave a doggy cough and managed to arrange his expression into one of contrite regret. “That is, what couldn’t you do if you put your impressive and limitless mind to it?”

“Nice save,” I said with a nod. “Very well. I am inclined to help you because, for one, I am the bearer of the Chalice of Parisi. I assume you know it well.”

Effrijim wrinkled his muzzle. “My mom’s favorite cup? Yeah, I know it. I take it you looked up the incidents in my past?”

“And a colorful three volumes they were, yes,” I answered, wondering what it would take to get Terrin to let me go on vacation for a year or two. “But then, I’d expect the child of the Sovereign and one of the dark lords who founded Abaddon would be a bit quirky. However, that is only part of the reason I’ve decided to give you aid. According to my predecessors, you have a role to play in events important to the Otherworld.”

“ I do?” Effrijim squawked, then cleared his throat and spoke in a more natural tone. “I mean, yeah, of course I’m all up in important stuff and things, but hey, you want to fill me in on just what I’m going to be doing? Because Hilders never came right out with whatever it is, and why I had to leave the Court when I did.”

“I have no idea,” I said, plucking a stray hair from my sleeve. I’d decided to wear my favorite bright red power suit to the meeting, since it always made me feel especially wicked, and what better emotion was there when dealing with demons? “Many of the records from that time burned in a mysterious fire. What remains speaks of many, many discussions about behavior.”

Effrijim made what I can only describe as a moue. “Yeah, about that ... Hildie really had a thing for everyone following the rules to the letter, and I’m not a ‘rules to the letter’ sort of guy. I’m more of a free spirit. Not beholden to anyone. A loner who doesn’t need anyone—except when it comes to dealing with demon lords—and who’s untouched by drama.”

I leaned down to meet his gaze. His eyes grew huge when I said softly, “And yet, sorrow is wrapped so deep around you I can see its stain leaching out to your soul. The fact that you, a demon, have a soul is in itself a contradiction, but regardless, your pain is palpable.”

He sucked in a breath, and for an instant, the light in his eyes dimmed, but his head snapped up as he gave me a long look. “I just want revenge, OK?”

“You know, sugar, I am many things, but stupid isn’t one of them. It’s clear that you’ve suffered a grievous loss, and you want to strike back in return. The question is, How far are you willing to go to obtain that revenge?”

“Whatever it takes,” he answered, his voice oddly flat before he cleared his throat and continued in a normal tone. “I’m all over revenge, babe. If I can help you with anything to make that happen, then I’ll do it.”

“Very well.” I thought for a moment. “I don’t normally indulge in the visions that my predecessors relied on for insight, but I will see to it that you are set onto the path that will lead—if you take it—to the revenge you seek. Be warned, demon Effrijim, that result may not happen anytime soon. Several pieces need to fall into place, and I’m not entirely sure they will do so. Unfortunately, my better half will not let me manipulate things outright, which is just enraging, don’t you think? What’s the point of being half of the Sovereign if you aren’t allowed to fix things? But Terrin insists that we give everyone the ability to make their own choices and respect their free will. It’s all poppycock, of course, but I live to make Terrin happy, so I do as he insists.”

The dog blinked at me a couple of times. “Gotcha. What happens now?”

“Now,” I said, standing up and dusting off ice-cream-cone crumbs from my front. I made a mental note to do a bit of snooping around Abaddon. I’d need a culpable demon lord if my plan was to bear fruit. “You survive.”

“Yeah, but what—”

I returned to the Court before the demon could finish his question, the grass of the park changing underfoot to black-and-white tile as I strode down the hall of the administrative wing of our main building, pausing to poke my head into Terrin’s office. “Sugar, do you remember a demon lord who used to abide in the mortal world about eighty or so years ago? He made some sort of splash in the silent-movie scene.”

Terrin was clearly dealing with some issue or other with a cherub who perched opposite him on the edge of a hard wooden chair. When he glanced up at my question, his forehead was furrowed. “I believe so. I think you’re right that he was a silent-film star.” He offered a name that had me nodding.

“That’s the one. What was his real name?”

He thought for a moment. “I believe it’s Magoth,” he finally said. “I can look it up if it’s really important.”

“It’s not at all necessary, sweet one. That’s the demon lord I was thinking of. You are the best seneschal in all the Otherworld,” I told him, blowing a kiss, and casting a glance toward the cherub before looking back at him.

He gave the slightest shake of his head, which let me know I wasn’t needed to deal with this particular problem.

I headed off to my office, planning many things, but most of all, I started to pull together in my mind the sort of industrial-strength glamour I was going to need in order to get by undetected in Abaddon.